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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25455388">Operation Lovebirds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostpun/pseuds/ghostpun'>ghostpun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BIRDMEN - 田辺イエロウ | Tanabe Yellow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>2 year time skip, Birthday Party, Christmas Party, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Post-Canon, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, Truth or Dare, aka Takayama and Rei, also they bake a bunch/make dinner at some point so if you dont like food being in fics im sorry, i kinda just wanted to write about the bird club hanging out, probably shouldve put those on the www fic SDGJKSGD, spoilers for the end of the fic so don't look if you don't want to know:, the gang's in highschool specifically 2nd-3rd year, there's some talk about emotions and death and dissociation and stuff, trans male character(s), uhhh what to say about this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:35:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25455388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostpun/pseuds/ghostpun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sagisawa looks around at his friends. “Think about it: how much better would life be if Karasuma and Takayama finally got together? All those long stares, the wing domes of gay anxiety, poof!” He raises his hands up and open in a dramatic flair, “Gone! Karasuma’s already stressed enough about things, and Takayama could always benefit by that pull to normalcy. It’ll only be like, a /little/ meddling. Consider it a gentle nudge!”</p><p> </p><p>aka Sagisawa teams up with the others to help get Karasuma and Takayama together, but ends up falling for Kamoda in the process</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Irene Griff &amp; Umino Tsubame, Kamoda Mikisada &amp; Sagisawa Rei, Kamoda Mikisada/Sagisawa Rei, Karasuma Eishi/Takayama Sou, Sagisawa Rei &amp; Bird Club, Sagisawa Rei &amp; Takayama Sou, past/one-onesided Sagisawa Rei/Karasuma Eishi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've actually been working on this fic for over a year if you'd believe it. I kinda poured a lot into this, especially in a later chapter, so I hope you'll like it! Same with my other longer fic, I'm going to posting everything at once, but it'll be in multiple chapters</p><p>also big shoutout to my bff tiara for beta reading!!!! ily nerd</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I can’t be the only one that’s noticed this,” Sagisawa says, hands splayed out on the table in his dining room, “Right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn't you get an advantage with your ability?” Umino asks from his right, taking a sip from her orange juice. “Don’t Tricksters see through feelings easier?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Even then! Like, I’ve noticed this since day one! Haven’t you, Kamoda? You’re his best friend!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ei-chan doesn’t like to talk about crushes…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Irene leans back in the chair across from Sagisawa, tilting it at a dangerous angle. “But...?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda scratches his chin, chuckling awkwardly. “He definitely has a crush on Takayama.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa slams his hands down. “I KNEW IT! See, we </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get them together!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Can’t we just wait for them to do that themselves?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um,” Umino interjects, “Considering we’ve been friends already for two years, we’d probably be waiting a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda sits back in his seat. “I’m not sure…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think about it: how much better it would be if they actually got together? All those long stares, the wing domes of gay anxiety, poof!” He raises his hands up and open in a dramatic flair, “Gone! Karasuma’s already stressed enough about things, and Takayama could always benefit by that pull to normalcy. It’ll only be like, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> meddling. Consider it a gentle nudge!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re so sure…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust me,” Sagisawa grins, not un-catlike. “This’ll be great!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What would we even do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa sinks into the closest chair, next to Kamoda. “It would feel wrong to plan too far ahead. I say we just take the opportunities as we see them. It’s gotta be subtle, we’re only trying to help them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We could try to get them to spend more time alone together?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa snaps his fingers and points at Umino. “Or have them sit by each other more!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda leans against the back of his chair, tilting his head up in thought. “We should avoid asking them right out how they feel about each other, it’ll get Eichan to clam up, and besides, he’s a little dense in figuring out people might like him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Placing both legs on the table, Irene rolls her eyes. “And Sou rarely ever thinks about himself or his own relationships.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right! So let’s try to keep this more quiet, and not try to be overbearing. You guys ready for ‘Operation Lovebirds?’” He moves his fist to the middle of the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long have you been sitting on that?” Irene teases, before joining the others in the fist bump.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About two  weeks.” Sagisawa takes out his phone from his hoodie pocket to check the time. Below the clock displays a picture of the Bird Club making silly faces towards the camera. ”Okay, it’s about time for the meeting, so we’ll brainstorm later.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest follow him out the door, Umino and Irene bickering over something Sagisawa can’t make out, while Kamoda catches up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are we even doing today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa only laughs in response, ignoring Kamoda’s eyebrow raise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Takayama and Karasuma arrive, and everyone settles, Sagisawa can’t help but to grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s with that look?” Karasuma grumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just excited for the game, that’s all.” He doesn’t drop his smirk as he quietly inches his way over to the tarp placed precisely by the door. He waits until Karasuma turns around to bark something to Kamoda, then reaches inside, grabs one of the water balloons, and chucks it straight at the unsuspecting teen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The painstaking hour it took to fill up all those water balloons is immediately worth it in a single moment; the balloon hits Karasuma square in the back of the head, exploding and covering him in cold water. Karasuma screeches, a high pitched noise that makes a few nearby birds take flight, and his wings flail in the air as he turns around and growls:</span>
  <em>
    <span> “What the fuck was that for?!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad you asked, Vice President!” Sagisawa grins. “Because today’s activity is target practice!” He rips the tarp away, revealing 6 buckets full of water balloons. “It’s a free-for-all up in the air, but you have to stay in range of the building. If you get hit, you’re out! We’ll go for 5 rounds, and you can only carry one balloon at a time. So no stashing them in your wings, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Irene</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Also, as a handicap, Takayama and Irene aren’t allowed to use any until 2 people are already out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama merely shrugs and Irene grumbles something in agreement, while Kamoda and Umino whoop in excitement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma, however, is still very grumpy, especially with his hair still drenched. “We’re going to be destroyed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa laughs. “Oh, I know. But at least this forces us to work on our dodging skills!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shorter boy rolls his eyes, walks over to grab a towel from the supplies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The buckets are all placed, with everyone assigned to one--Takayama and Irene stand next to the two in the middle of the roof, while everyone else stands next to a bucket in the corner. The four on the side pick up a balloon and wait for the signal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama blows on the whistle he was given, and Sagisawa immediately launches himself into the air before taking a sharp left, just narrowly missing the water balloon aimed at his wing. Karasuma curses, his attempt at revenge already foiled, and he has to swoop back down to grab another balloon. Umino doesn’t waste the chance, nailing him in the space between his two wings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously?!” Karasuma yells, but Umino just cackles and dives away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa zooms around in the air, careful to observe where everyone else is. Takayama had disappeared the second he blew his whistle, but Sagisawa didn’t have to worry about him until the next person was out. Irene stayed on the roof, observing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino flew around, biding her time to swoop back down and grab another balloon to no doubt spike at Irene. Kamoda floats nearby, trying to calculate the best time to aim at the blue-haired girl. While Kamoda’s distracted trying to aim, Sagisawa sneaks up and chucks his neon balloon, hitting Kamoda’s foot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whaaaaaat?!” Kamoda yells. “No fair!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rules are rules, Kamoda!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bald teen sticks his tongue out before grumpily gliding down to his best friend. Karasuma squawks as the other tosses the unused balloon at his feet, and Sagisawa can’t help but snicker before tweeting out to Takayama and Irene that they could join in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After that, the round doesn’t take long. The bucket in the center rattles and tips over, and before Sagisawa can look over Takayama has already appeared out of</span>
  <em>
    <span> fucking nowhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and nails him in the face. Sagisawa, now thoroughly wet, and his curls an utter mess, grumbles as he floats down to where Kamoda and Karasuma are cackling like hyenas. From above he hears Umino yell something about mercy, and she whizzes past, Irene hot on her tail. Takayama lands on the roof for a second, picking up a red balloon, before heading up into the air again. There's a scream a moment later, followed by Irene cursing loudly, and the game ends.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Takayama, you’re too good at this!” Umino whines.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had a handicap.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You just had to sneak up on me the second I got Tsubame out, huh?!” Irene pushes down on Takayama’s head playfully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa claps his hands to get attention. “You can get your revenge next round! Everyone back to their spots!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next four rounds move in a blur. Takayama is able to secure another win, scaring Kamoda half-to-death with his fast flying. Sagisawa makes the mistake of targeting Irene and knocking her out in the first 5 minutes, guaranteeing his demise for the rest of the game. Umino and Irene each win a round, due to Umino spotting Takayama in the beginning and knocking him out twice, much to his chagrin. In the last round, in a surprising turn of events, Karasuma wins due to spending the whole round evading (and at one point, using Sagisawa as a body shield), letting the girls knock each other out (“It’s not against the rules! Mutual kill!”) and then nailing Takayama in the head while he’s distracted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma is way too proud over this achievement, even when Sagisawa reminds him Takayama had still won the game with his two wins. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time they finish up, it’s about 1 am in the morning, and Sagisawa is practically freezing from all the water aimed at his face. He waves his friends goodbye, before cleaning up what mess he can, and heading downstairs. The second he lands on his bed, he passes out.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Okay, I can explain.” Sagisawa says, a few weeks later, standing in front of the giant family portrait seated on his living room wall. “It was my mom’s idea.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this what rich people do in their spare time?” Kamoda asks, bewildered, “Get professional portraits done and brag about it on their wall?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma snorts. “I’m surprised there’s only one.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa rubs his neck and laughs. “There’s another one in my parents’ room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow.” Irene deadpans</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nevermind that! It’s not that important, you’re the ones that wanted to see my house so bad, so let’s continue the tour!” Sagisawa hurriedly waves his hand, and not so subtly pushes Kamoda through the door opening and back into the hallway. “It’s not anything special, really!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s quadruple the size of my apartment, Rei!” Umino giggles. “It’s okay to admit you live in a nice place!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s in there?” Kamoda asks, pointing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s my room. Kamoda, you’ve been in my room dozens of times already, have you already forgotten?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just so big!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa laughs, walking on, when Irene calls from behind: “Aren’t we gonna see your room?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s kinda a mess right now, so-” He freezes, seeing Irene already opening the door. “Hey!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The 18-year-old whistles. “You weren’t kidding.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been a long month! I get lazy!” He goes to close it but the rest of his friends pour in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sagisawa, what the fuck died in here?” Karasuma says, lifting up a paper towel drenched with paint stains.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My dreams,” Sagisawa groans as much as quips, lifting a couple books off the desk and walking over to his bookshelf in a rushed attempt to clean up. “Seriously, guys, can’t we just hang out in the living room?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino sits on the ground, observing the different books and movies as she ponders the best organization technique. “Alphabetical or by size, Rei?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to clean up!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too late!” She chirps, flashing him a wink and a thumbs up, before placing her finger on her chin in thought. “Hmmm...color it is!” She grabs the red book closest to her. “It’s gonna be rainbow~”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sticks her tongue out at her as he steps over a few stacks of books. “Kamoda, you really don’t have to make my bed, I can do it myself!” He flushes a bit in embarrassment, but Kamoda simply looks up with a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay, we can help! You said it’s been a hard month, right?” He strips the pillowcases and throws them at Irene, who dunks it into the hamper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, but,” Sagisawa scoops up some of the stray pencils and papers that litter his bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No buts!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brunet sighs, turning to look at Takayama, who quietly throws some trash into the proper can. He looks up, making eye contact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi, Takayama, come help me move this.” Karasuma calls. Takayama glances away, breaking eye contact, before briefly looking back at Sagisawa and nodding at him, then trodding over to help. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa looks around the room, suddenly a lot less cluttered than it had been this morning. He can even see the floor clearly, something that hasn’t happened in at least 2 months. He really hadn’t had the energy to clean it, and he had asked cleaning services a long time ago to leave his room alone. He picks up a few loose shirts, walking over to his closet, and starts to hang them up as he hears his friends laugh in the background, a sound that makes his heart swell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, guys.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They spend another 20 minutes cleaning, and by the end it looks the tidiest it’s been in probably years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa flops down on his bed. “So, pizza?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino and Kamoda let out an excited cheer, while Karasuma smiles and pulls out his phone, already typing up the order. Sagisawa’s phone gets a ping a minute later. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, can’t you call?” He laughs, looking over the message, double-checking everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No thanks.” Karasuma says. “I hate calling on the phone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa merely rolls his eyes, stepping out into the hallway. He watches his friends walk past him, and he waves past them, continuing to state his order to the worker. A minute later, he hangs up, peering his head into the living room to see his friends spread out with Kamoda, Umino, and Irene playing video games on the TV.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, I called, but someone has to go get the pizza in 30.” Sagisawa says, leaning over the back of the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma rolls his eyes from where he sits. “Why can’t you do it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um? Because I ordered?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How does that--ugh, whatever. Do we need to draw straws?” He ignores Kamoda screaming in anger as Umino’s character kicks him off the battle stage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We probably should, but I’m not playing.” Sagisawa shrugs, before backing up to grab something to use. He rummages in the kitchen in a bit, before disappearing into his room briefly to grab some yarn and scissors. He cuts 5 strings of different lengths, before placing them in his left fist. He thinks for a moment, glancing at everyone’s arrangements, before adjusting the strings slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, everyone grab a string, and when I say, pull it. Shortest string has to get the pizza!” Karasuma rolls his eyes, holds onto the most left string and waits. Kamoda, Irene, and Umino follow suit, then finally Takayama. Sagisawa smiles. “Aaaand pull!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama pulls the shortest string. Umino and Kamoda high five, before practically diving back at the controllers for another round. Umino picks Kirby (again), Irene chooses Bayonetta (also again) and Kamoda lets out a few half-hearted complaints about his “sure defeat.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay! Looks like Takayama will get it then.” Sagisawa claps his hands in finality, before plopping down on the couch. He smiles, turning his attention to the screen to watch Kirby swallow up Link and spit him out again. They go back and forth on the screen for 10 minutes, watching as Link attempts his special before Bayonetta slams him into the void below. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Noooooo!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From the corner of his eye, he notices Karasuma shifting on the couch to face Takayama. “Do you even know where the pizzeria is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama must have shaken his head, because Karasuma sighs in the next second, starts tapping aggressively on his phone to pull up a map. They go back and forth the next 5 minutes, Karasuma trying to explain the route so Takayama can memorize.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I still don’t see why I can’t fly there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t just show up at Pizza Hut with shadows, wings, and talons! Are you trying to give that underpaid worker a heart attack?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa’s loud cackling earns a head turn from Karasuma, who scowls before hopping to his feet. He glares at the wild-haired teen. “I’ll just make it easier for everyone and go with you. It’s about time, anyways.” And with that he turns on his heel and starts off to the exit. Takayama watches, a smile on his face. He takes Sagisawa’s card, and follows his friend out the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino briefly glances at him from over her shoulder before returning to the screen. “I’m guessing you planned that?” She smashes a few buttons and her Princess Peach knocks one of the ice climbers clear off the stage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa smiles as he slides off the couch and joins his friends on the floor. “I didn’t expect it to actually work. Now scoot over!” He grabs a controller and switches it in, immediately selecting Joker as his character.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa had only been half watching their rounds earlier, but now that he was in the game he can fully register just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>fidgety</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kamoda was. He was all elbows and knees, knocking and flailing and rotating his controller the angle his character ran to. Irene, who was right next to him too, was already used to it, ducking and leaning back with perfect precision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa... was not so lucky. By the time the door behind them clicked open and Takayama and Karasuma entered, pizzas and breadsticks in hand, announcing their arrival, Sagisawa was guaranteed at least 3 bruises for the next few weeks. But, he won a good amount of the rounds, so who’s the real loser? He takes his pizza slices with victory, stuffing them in his mouth as Karasuma screams as Takayama steals the smash ball from him with his Wii Fit Trainer.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Eichan, when you said you were gonna tell us about Aerospace” Kamoda starts, one day in November, pouting down at the piece of paper in front of him, “I thought you meant making paper airplanes and launching rockets.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And we will! But aerospace is a lot more than that…there’s so many factors involved! Haven’t you ever wondered how exactly, scientifically, we are able to to fly?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Umino and Kamoda both say in unison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh.” Karasuma slaps a hand to his face and drags it down. “If you guys let me lecture you for 30 minutes I’ll tell you how to build the best paper airplane possible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Irene looks bored out of her mind. “Make it 20.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yay!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Takayama,” Karasuma knocks his knuckles on the desk beside him, causing the boy in question to shoot up from where he had his head buried in his arms, squinting at the friend who woke him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to learn the mechanics of flying, in a way that could help you adjust your wings for better efficiency?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda blinks in the background. “What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Do you want to know how to fly better.’” Sagisawa simplifies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama scrunches his face before leaning back in the chair, looking expectantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take that as an ‘okay.’” Karasuma huffs, before maneuvering his way through his friends over to his shelf, picking up one of his model airplanes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma holds up the model. “What do you notice about the wings?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>45 minutes later, Sagisawa turns his head from where he’s been chilling on the floor and looks at Karasuma. “This has been longer than 20 minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The short boy only huffs, annoyed that his small rant about airfoils was so rudely interrupted. “It’s not my fault Umino asked a question!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She whines as she fiddles with her piece of paper. “All I asked was what a camber line was!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma sighs, pinches the brow of his nose before placing his model on the desk. “Okay! Okay, fine.” He picks up a paper, arcs an eyebrow at the expectant crew, then turns around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A minute later, he brandishes a paper airplane that looks, as Kamoda puts it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma doesn’t even attempt to hide his cockiness as he throws the design, with a flick of his hand, sending it through his bedroom door into the hallway, where it takes a sharp 90 degree turn, and enters the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No way!” Umino says, before tossing her own in the air. It lands at her feet. “Aw, what?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You fiddled with it too many times.” Karasuma points out. “There’s too many creases and folds that hinder the design.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda shakes his paper towards Karasuma. “You’ve got to teach us!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma huffs, leans against his desk. “I don’t know, I feel like I’m being underappreciated.” Sagisawa can practically hear the snark in his voice. He rolls his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Karasuma, thank you </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>much for your long rant about airplanes that was completely informational and </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>not unnecessary. Please, oh master of the paper airplane, teach us what you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma thinks about it for a second. “No,” he starts to say, before yelping as Takayama pokes him in his side in annoyance. “Hey! Ugh. Fine, okay, gather round.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa definitely doesn’t miss that interaction, cocks an eyebrow up towards Karasuma, who scrunches his face at him in a way that reads, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘shut up’.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He elbows Kamoda in the side and gives him a grin. Kamoda, confused, just gives him a bigger grin back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa grabs his piece of paper and starts to follow Karasuma's instructions, ignoring how fast his heart started beating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later in the week, the group meets up at a grocery store before heading to Sagisawa’s place. Takayama and Karasuma stand at the end of the aisle, shoulder to shoulder as they hold the list. Karasuma mumbles something, pointing at different things and occasionally bickering with the other’s last-minute suggestions: </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not getting choco pies, we’re literally here getting supplies to make cookies!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda picks up the flour as Sagisawa nudges him in the side to get his attention. “They’re practically an old married couple.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From where they stand, Sagisawa watches Karasuma pat his pockets. Takayama wordlessly takes a pen from behind Karasuma’s ear, who grumbles and snatches it from his hand. He begins scribbling something off of his list, completely missing Takayama’s dopey smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get a room, you two!” Irene teases as she rounds the corner with Umino, causing Karasuma to jump 4 feet away from the other boy and flush a bright red. He opens and closes his mouth for a moment, not unlike a fish, before pressing his mouth in a thin line. “Did you find the chocolate?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Irene waves the bags of chocolate chips in her hands before tossing them into the basket in Takayama’s hands. Umino grins as she places the sticks of butter in as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that everything?” Sagisawa says, plopping the flour into the basket as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm, should be.” Karasuma notes, crossing more things off the list, and counting back. “Yep, we’re done. Sagisawa, you sure you’re okay paying?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, please.” Sagisawa laughs, taking the basket from his friend. “I have nothing better to do than spend my parent’s money.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That causes Karasuma to let out a cackle. “Yeah, okay, I forgot about you and your crazy allowance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa finishes paying up, politely conversing with the cashier, before catching up with his friend’s outside, a grin on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they get to Sagisawa’s place, Irene immediately makes a beeline to the couch, tossing her stuff on top before jumping on and kicking her feet up. Umino is right beside her, continuing their conversation about sports.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma takes the bags full of ingredients, disappearing into the kitchen, Takayama trailing behind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda grins, placing his backpack down. “I’m so excited! It’s been so long since we had a sleepover!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s only been like four months,” Sagisawa grins, placing his hands on his hips. “But I’ve missed it too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma pokes his head from the kitchen. “Are you guys going to help make cookies or not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Coming!” Umino cheers, bouncing from the couch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few trays are placed into the oven later, the group starts to roll out their sleeping bags, hanging out on the floor and chatting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know Karasuma, you’re not as bad at fighting as I thought you’d be!” Irene laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm? You think so?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sure you didn’t get into fights as a kid?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa and Kamoda both startle, the latter spitting out his water. “‘Well?!’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma fiddles with the ends of his black hoodie. “Ah, well, yeah. I mean, it’s to be expected, you know? Mikisada gains a reputation of being a delinquent that got into fights, Mikisada hangs out with me. I’m shorter, scrawnier, so I make a good target.” He shrugs with the movement. “I mean, I got punched once or twice, but usually I evaded them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda frowns at this. “Eichan, you didn’t tell me about this...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His best friend dismisses it with a wave. “It’s not anything important. We met because of bullying, so it's practically no biggie. I have my own tricks. One time, I climbed over a fence.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Oh, I remember that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone swivels their heads to look at Takayama, who sits unmoving from the floor. Karasuma blinks. “What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I saw it. It was the first week of third year, right? Three guys cornered you in the schoolyard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...didn’t think anyone saw that. Where even were you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs. “I was up in the tree. You kicked one of them in the face before climbing the fence and running.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Haha! Yeah, I did.” Karasuma’s face twitches into an open smile, eyebrow cocked. “I think I broke his jaw.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wild haired boy merely nods. “The kick had good form.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa can’t help but tease. “I didn’t think you’d pay attention to what some human was doing~” The seventeen-year-old doesn’t even flinch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Karasuma’s always been different.” He says it so openly. Sagisawa still can’t get over just how easily it is for Takayama to just...say what he’s thinking. Sagisawa looks over to Karasuma choking on air, blushing and refusing to meet the other seraph’s stare. Is it freeing, to not be scared? Sagisawa could fake as much confidence as he needed to pass everyday school life, but this was in its purest form. No fake smiles, no trained laughs. Just the truth. When Takayama spoke, there was no denying he meant every word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama breaks eye contact from the boy he’s so unashamedly in love with to look at Sagisawa. He glances to Kamoda, glances back at him. Then smiles, knowingly. As if he’s cracked the code to something Sagisawa was still trying to piece together from the butterflies and pits in his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa’s more than glad when the oven beeps, giving him an excuse to rush to the kitchen for some fresh air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surprisingly, the cookies aren’t burnt when he pulls them out of the oven, and he gently places the two trays on top of his stove. He quickly opens the handle of his fridge, grabs the other two trays, then plops them in the oven to cook for another fifteen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hears his friends bickering over what to do, suggesting games. Karasuma still sits a bit off to the side, face red. It gives Sagisawa an idea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t we play Truth or Dare?” He proposes as he unsticks the cookies from the tray and onto the paper-toweled counter before rejoining the others.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma huffs from the side. “What are we, elementary kids at a party?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fun though, isn’t it?” He smirks at Irene while tilting his head in Karasuma’s direction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Irene gets the hint. “I’ve never played it, and it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>a staple in every teen movie I’ve seen, so why not? Unless you’re too </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared </span>
  </em>
  <span>to reveal any secrets? Think you can’t handle the dares?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re obviously baiting me into this.” Karasuma scoots closer into the circle. “But whatever, fine, we’ll play Sagisawa’s kiddie game.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino claps in delight. “It’s been so long since I’ve last done one of these!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can go first if you want, Tsubame.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Haha, yessssssss!” She places a finger on her chin. “Hmmmmmmmm-Mikisada!” She points dramatically in his direction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda meets it with his own pointer finger. “Tsubame!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Truth. Or. Dare?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Truth!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s your favorite cat?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gasps. “You can’t make me choose between my own children!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too bad! This is Truth or Dare!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda scrunches his face up in concentration and annoyance, making a loud ‘Mrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr’ sound. Sagisawa thinks it’s pretty cute. Then he mentally slaps himself for that thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agh! I can’t choose!!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma looks absolutely amused by this. “Don’t you have like 4 cats by now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Six…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“SIX?!? When’d you get SIX?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...there was this little kitten….and...she’s so </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Eichan-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino rocks forward. “Would you say she’s your faaaaaavorite?~”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For now!!! I mean, how could you say no to baby Aia?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino let’s out a laugh, and Karasuma shakes his head. “Okay, it’s your turn Kamoda.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm…” He thinks about this carefully. “Irene, Truth or Dare?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dare.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh-ho!” Kamoda sits up, looks around to think of what to do. “I dare youuuu toooooo…..” He looks over at the counter full of the baking supplies they’ve yet to put up. “I dare you to eat a raw egg!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ewwwww, why?!” Sagisawa blanches.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gross,” She walks over, cracking an egg on the table and placing the yolk into a cup. She swiftly picks up the glass and drinks it, eye twitching before she shakes her head and shivers. “That was awful.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma cackles at that, barely attempting to hide his laughter behind his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something funny, asshole?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, then. How about you, huh? Truth or dare?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma cocks his eyebrow. “Truth.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not even gonna see what I’d choose for dare?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not even giving you the option.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Haha, okay, scaredy cat. What’s the cutest thing about Sou?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma almost topples over. “H-huh?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh come on! He complimented you so nicely a few minutes ago. What is the cutest thing about our resident cryptid Takayama Sou?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“U-um!” Karasuma ears burn a bright red. He looks around the room, before landing on Takayama. He glances away. “Well, um...when you wake up from a nap...I guess…Your sleepy expression is nice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino grins. “So the cutest thing about him is his face?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma puffs up defensively. “I’ve already answered the question!” Causing the others to cackle in laughter while Takayama practically beams from the side. “Sagisawa, Truth or Dare?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The oven beeps from behind them. “Dare.” Sagisawa replies, stretches, before walking over to open the oven door. He grabs the couple trays, when Karasuma pipes up from the living room. “I dare you to kiss someone in the room.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa fumbles with the tray, almost drops it, before securing it again. His face burns, and even though he’s turned away from the other’s, he’s sure his ears are bright red. “Really making this an elementary school thing, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the one that started it, Sagisawa.” Karasuma crows back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And I’m regretting it now that it’s backfired</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Sagisawa thinks, grumpily tossing the cookies to join their cooled-down brethren. He snags one and stuffs it in his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have all day, Rei!” Umino laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay.” Sagisawa glances around the room before his eyes land on Kamoda, who smiles up at him with an amused expression. Before Sagisawa can stop himself, he crouches down, grabs the side of Kamoda’s face, and plants a kiss on his cheek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cop-out!” Irene yells.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was a kiss! Karasuma never specified on the lips!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re no fun, Rei!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s too late!” Sagisawa huffs, plopping down properly. Kamoda has his hand pressed up to where Sagisawa kissed him, a blush on his cheeks. Sagisawa tries not to think about it too deeply. “Takayama, it’s your turn! Truth or dare?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama shrugs. “Dare.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa grins at the chance at payback. “I dare you to hold Karasuma’s hand for the rest of the day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Oh, okay.” He reaches for Karasuma’s hand, immediately intertwining their fingers in a lock before Karasuma can object. The shorter teen mumbles something to the other, and Takayama grins before looking up to the last person in the round: Umino. “Truth or Dare?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dare! Give it your worst, Takayama!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I dare you to not eat any sweets for a day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino and Sagisawa gasp. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>monster!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s all of Tsubame’s diet! She’ll starve, Takayama, have mercy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama nods, stubbornly. “She can handle it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The world…it’s so cruel…I can’t even eat the cookies we made…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I dare you to not eat any sweets for a day, starting tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Takayama, you can’t change-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“YAY!” Umino hops up from where she was sitting. “I’m gonna have to eat as many cookies as I can before midnight. Rei, what’s the time?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa glances at his phone. “11:45 pm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fifteen minutes, okay!” Umino runs over to grab a gallon of milk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, wait,</span>
  <em>
    <span> you can’t actually eat all of them-!!!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Nowadays, with everyone in different high schools, finding time to hang out during the week was a bit difficult. Sagisawa got the short straw and was shipped off to some fancy private high school in a different part of the city, while Kamoda, Irene, and Takayama went to a cheap public school close to home, and Umino and Karasuma to a more competitive school. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama was working today, Umino had a club, and Irene wanted to nap, so that left the three other members sitting in the halfway point between all three schools, at a typical fast food chain restaurant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa takes a sip of his drink, watches as Kamoda and Karasuma bicker back and forth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh,” Karasuma says, stopping his conversation with his taller friend. He points to Sagisawa’s head with a limp french fry. “I didn’t know you dyed your hair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa pulls on one of his curls, taking in the sight of his natural black seeping into his lighter hair. “Ah, yeah. I’m usually better about keeping my routine, but I guess I’ve been busy these last couple of months.” He releases the strand and watches it bounce back to its normal shape. “I guess I could dye it tonight, I’m not doing anything anyways. Do you two want to come over?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda nods, smiling that radiant smile that has Sagisawa want to go splash cold water in his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, sorry, but not tonight. I have a date with my textbook,” Karasuma scratches his cheek while looking off to the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa rolls his eyes. “You’re always studying, dude. You know college applications aren’t until next year?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just want to be caught up,” Karasuma stammers, before shifting out of his seat and grabbing his satchel. “I should really get going. I’ll see you guys later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See you!” Sagisawa says, waving goodbye as Karasuma tells them to ‘have fun’ and disappears around the corner, out the door, and onto the busy Tokyo street.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa blinks, before turning back to Kamoda. “Ready to go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His friend gathers his trash, stands up and tosses it into the nearby bin. “Yep!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great.” Sagisawa smiles, stomach fluttering at the idea of spending an afternoon hanging out with him. Sagisawa decides not to dwell too much on that as they both exit the place and start their trek onto the street. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A short walk and elevator ride later, Sagisawa swings open the door to the empty suite that is his home. Kamoda looks around. “Is your assistant not here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She only checks in occasionally.” Sagisawa reminds, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of sparkling water. Kamoda declines the offer of a drink, and Sagisawa shrugs and closes it. He takes a sip and carries it over to the bathroom where he starts to rummage in the cabinet below the sink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aha!” He sits up, holding onto the hair dye kits. Kamoda from the doorway lets out a </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Nice!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The curly-haired boy disappears into his bedroom for a moment, re-emerging wearing an older, worse-for-wear shirt. He shakes the box back and forth ever so slightly, humming as he walks into the kitchen and starts rummaging through the drawers for gloves. He could’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>sworn</span>
  </em>
  <span> they were in the cabinet under the sink...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I dye your hair?” Kamoda asks, peering over Sagisawa’s shoulder and pointing out the hidden box, trapped under some plastic bags. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Thanks. And, uh,” The other says, glances back to his box on the counter and looks back at Kamoda’s hopeful expression. “Well, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> just bleaching and a simple color, so sure, why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda smiles at him genuinely, his general bright beam softened into a glow. Sagisawa finds himself ducking out of the way with his ears burning, going to grab a stool that stood at the counter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s better we dye it in the bathroom.” Sagisawa explains, carrying everything back. He sets a stool down in the center of the room, hops on top, and watches as Kamoda gets everything ready.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you done this before?” Sagisawa asks, fidgeting.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Kamoda hums as he squirts some of the bottle onto a small plastic tray. “Yep! I used to dye my hair blonde some years ago, though I needed help from my sister.”</span>
  <span></span>
    <br/>
  
  <span>“Really?” Somehow, Sagisawa constantly forgot Kamoda wasn’t always bald. He watches Kamoda dip the brush into the small tray, before lifting it up and starting to apply it to Sagisawa’s hair.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Mhm! She’s really good at this type of stuff. Used to dye her hair a different color every month in highschool.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t she in college now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep, though I can’t remember what she’s majoring in.” Kamoda keeps painting. “Something in Art?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s neat!” He kicks his feet loosely back and forth, the soles of his feet occasionally thumping against the stool. They make idle small talk, but mainly Sagisawa just watches the other through the mirror propped in front. He absentmindedly grabs his phone, and decides to open Snapchat and send a picture to Karasuma. Kamoda spots the camera, wrinkles his nose to stick his tongue out playfully, and keeps working after he hears the click. A few seconds later it’s opened, then the new snap icon appears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a picture of Karasuma’s desk, angled towards the lamp. The text reads: “looks like you two are having fun”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa responds with a picture of his face, hair clearly mismatched with the bleach and already dyed sections. “could've been more fun if u joined!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No thanks, have fun on your date” Karasuma replies, the bottom half of his face cut off, but he’s clearly rolling his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa tries to angle the phone away from Kamoda’s potentially prying eyes, taking a picture of the tiled floor. “not a date!!!!!!!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“whatever you say” It’s a shot of his math textbook.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa snaps a picture with his nose scrunched up. Kamoda’s gloved hand is caught waving. “😤😤😤”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“🙄🙄🙄” The other teen’s face is cut in half vertically, giving an unimpressed look. From the corner Sagisawa catches something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa snaps a pic of his foot. “wtf is that takayama”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma’s face is even closer to the screen this time, blocking anything else out. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“uh huh. well have fun on ur date with that ‘textbook’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“🖕🏼”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay!” Kamoda speaks up, snapping Sagisawa’s attention away from his phone. “I think I covered all of it! It should be done in 30 or so. You dye it brown afterwards, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa examines Kamoda’s work in the mirror. He actually did a better job than what Sagisawa usually does. He turns away from the mirror with a smile. “Do you want to order takeout?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda’s smile matches his, and he lets out a laugh. “When was the last time you actually cooked a meal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I make ramen! Sometimes!” He complains, following Kamoda out into the hall and back into the main area. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Instant cup ramen doesn’t count and you know it,” Kamoda chides. “It’s not healthy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa scrunches his nose up for a second. “I never really cooked for myself, so! Besides, it’s not like anyone cares about my diet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda bears a grin and cocks an eyebrow up. “Didn’t I just go on a small rant about it? Okay, are you free next Saturday?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um...I think so?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Because you’re coming over and we’re cooking a meal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa tries to ignore how that makes his heart pound. “Yeah, alright. But what are we doing for tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda opens up Sagisawa’s fridge, the look of brief shock over the complete...barrenness of it. A few bags of medicine, a carton of milk, eggs, and a couple old vegetables thrown haphazardly about from the last couple weeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Looks like you can enjoy one more night of takeout.” Kamoda sighs, causing Sagisawa’s giggle to spill out and into the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>30 minutes later Sagisawa is down on the main floor to hand over his credit card to the delivery man, before taking it and the bags of food back. The delivery man looks confused at Sagisawa’s worn down vocaloid shirt and partially bleached hair, but doesn’t say much other than a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you </span>
  </em>
  <span>and an awkward shuffle out of the fancy building. Sagisawa waves at the desk clerk, who doesn’t bother to wave back, before hopping onto an elevator.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda looks absolutely ecstatic as he’s handed his portion, taking a seat next to his friend, opening up his bag and grinning as he takes out his sandwich. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa’s phone interrupts him before he can unwrap his meal, a bright and cheery tune that repeats itself every couple of notes. He has to look at the time before it clicks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, right!” He says, quickly standing up and rummaging for something in the fridge. He produces a bag. “I have to go to the roof for a second to meet Takayama, so you can start eating without me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine, it can wait,” Kamoda places down his meal and follows after. “What’s Takayama here for?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“T shot.” Sagisawa shakes the small, white bag and pushes open the door to the roof. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Takayama! Hey!” Sagisawa waves up, at the descending black figure. He does a low loop around in a circle, before landing promptly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” Takayama greets, black mass swirling around as his wings retreat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really should stop flying here, it’s probably murder on your thigh afterwards.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama opens up the bag retrieving the needle, merely shrugging. “It’s fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t take much time after that, Takayama taps on the syringe before his wing mass shifts a window of skin on his thigh, then he aims the syringe 90 degrees into it. Sagisawa is used to doing it himself, but he still flinches anyway. Takayama hands the bag back. “Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No problem. Has your voice gotten deeper?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama exhales roughly through his nose which Sagisawa takes as a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda grins from behind his friend. “We’re in the middle of dyeing Sagisawa’s hair, if you want to join!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama does a wave of dismissal with the unfurling of his wing. “No, sorry, I’m a bit busy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Busy’ hanging out with Karasuma?” Sagisawa grins, leaning on the balls of his feet. He squints to see Takayama’s reaction, hopes maybe for some blushing, but the combination of a mask and his general stoicness reveals nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Takayama admits, albeit a bit hesitant. He doesn’t give either of the other boys much of a chance to speak before he tilts his chin down slightly as a nod goodbye, then flings himself into the air, looping around the building once before shooting off into the distance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda crosses his arms. “Karasuma ditched us to hang out with Takayama?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, young love.” Sagisawa dramatically croons in response. “I doubt either of them think it’s an actual date.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda rolls his eyes. “Oh, yeah.” He hikes his voice up a few octaves, “‘I’m Eishi, and I’m totally not in love with my friend! So what if I hang out with him at his house every other day? It doesn’t mean we’re dating! What’s gay about holding hands?! It was for information gathering!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stopppp, oh my god.” Sagisawa wheezes. “I swear I’ve heard that excuse ten times now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda lets out a hiccup of a giggle, and they both let themselves laugh on the roof for a good while before they head back down.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When next Saturday comes, Sagisawa nervously finds himself outside of Kamoda’s home, waiting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teen in question quickly pokes his head around the corner, his grin growing as he spots his friend at the door. “Hey!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” Sagisawa greets back, waving. “Thank you for having me over!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course! I’m the one that invited you, anyways.” He says, making his way through the home with Sagisawa in tow. He shows his hand to the door of his kitchen, letting the other boy in first before following.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we making?” Sagisawa asks, eyeing all the vegetables and chicken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Curry! I’ve made this a thousand times before, so I can definitely teach you with confidence!” He bellows, hands on his hips and eyes closed, and the confidence has Sagisawa’s heart doing gymnastics. It was getting hard to ignore the fact Kamoda always seemed to have that effect on him. It makes his brain malfunction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I think I need to use the bathroom, first,” Sagisawa stammers, turning on his heel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay! Don’t take too long, though!” Kamoda says, but Sagisawa is practically booking it down the hallway and to the bathroom, and tries to subtly and swiftly shut the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He checks his face in the mirror, and, just as he thought, he’s bright red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does the first thing he can think of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got a problem.” Sagisawa breathes into the phone a minute later, holding the receiver end of the phone close. “I think I’ve got a crush on Kamoda.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah.” Karasuma’s voice crinkles through. “Wait--did you just figure that out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nevermind that! What should I do?!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask him out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?! You know more than anyone it’s not that easy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well what do you want me to say?!” Karasuma’s reedy voice piped through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t you have just texted this?! I’m kinda busy right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa pouts. “I hate texting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, you’re the worst. Just go back out and talk to him. Wait your time, feel the atmosphere. If you’re confident enough, ask him out on a date. And be specific, because Kamoda might take it as a friendship date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa blinks at all the sound advice. “Wh-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also, break his heart and I break you.” A muffled voice sounds in the background. “I know, I know. Okay, I’m hanging up now. Good luck wooing my best friend.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Click.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa lets the phone drop from his hand and onto his knee. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives himself another minute to collect his thoughts, pacing around, thoughts buzzing. He eventually forces himself out of the bathroom, making his way down the hallway and to the kitchen. He lets himself dawdle, a cowardly way to prolong the time, cheeks burning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He passes by a shelf full of items, and he stops to look at them all. Something catches his eye on the middle row.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa picks up a photograph on a shelf. It was a family of four; a smiling, middle-aged man, a grinning 15 year-old girl with blonde dyed hair and a shy 10 year-old boy, hugging a middle-aged woman, her long hair in a braid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda peeks his head out of the doorframe. “Hey, I found...“ His voice trails off as he sees what Sagisawa is holding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa quickly sets it down. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda smiles, but his eyes seem sad. “It’s okay.” He walks over to where Sagisawa is, picking up the photograph. “It’s just an old family photo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is...that your mom?” Sagisawa hesitates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah it is.” He taps the glass, pointing to her. “I got her smile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa’s Trickster abilities kick into high gear, and he is practically choking on the thick fog of bittersweetness. “Do...you want to talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda looks surprised. “You don’t need to listen, I mean, it happened years ago. I’m okay, really!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa calmly places a hand on his shoulder. “I know, but it’s okay to talk about it once in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda sighs, gently tucking the photograph back to where it was. “Actually, the recipe we’re making was hers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” He chirps. “She taught me everything I needed to know, and I was always her assistant. She even went to culinary school.” Kamoda makes his way back into the kitchen, Sagisawa in tow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s pretty amazing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is! I honestly don’t think I’ll ever nail her recipes 100%. She just had that touch.” He starts resuming the work he started, handing Sagisawa a few vegetables to go wash off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts chopping an onion up, his hands moving swiftly, until they slow, the knife freezing just above the vegetable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was eleven,” his voice is the quietest Sagisawa has ever heard. “They had to pull me out of class, because she suffered a stroke.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Sagisawa says, remembering when he had found out about his brother. “That must have been disorienting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda shrugs, continues chopping. “She was already gone by the time they told me.” He finishes cutting it up, placing the diced onions aside. “But that was years ago, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t mean the pain still isn’t there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s true.” Kamoda laughs, an attempt to hide the seriousness. “We just...no one really talks about it. Once the funeral was over, no one brought it up. I guess it’s a sore subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa nods, remembering the few times she was mentioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>“What’s this?” Sagisawa asks, pointing to a small, glass figurine of a duck. The details were intricate, and the neck was bowed at an angle that must have required a skilled hand.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ah,” Kamoda says from behind him. “It was my mom’s.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There’s a hint of something in his voice that has Sagisawa turn inquisitively with a question on his tongue, but his eyes lock onto Karasuma’s, and he didn’t even need to tweet, his eyes burned with one word: </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Don’t. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sagisawa swallows, the question dying along with it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you can talk to me, if you ever need or want to discuss it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda looks a bit tired, but genuinely appreciative. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He hands the knife to Sagisawa. “Can you chop up the potatoes for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa looks at the knife in hand, letting out a small laugh. “Um,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda notices this. “Oh! I keep forgetting you’ve never had to cook before.” He finishes washing off two potatoes, places them on the counter and grabs a knife of his own. “Here, you can do it with me!” He holds on to the potato delicately, “First, you’re going to hold the knife like this, cutting straight down!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa fumbles with the knife, mimicking him and chopping down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! Now we’re going to repeat it three times on each slice. One like this,” He splits one half in half once more, before rotating it by a turn “And then we’re splitting it all into thirds! Now you have six chunks from one half! And then we’ll just repeat to the other half.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it that easy?” Sagisawa wonders, making the chops. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cooking seems a lot scarier than it actually is! Just a bunch of tiny steps that add up.” Kamoda smiles. “Can you cut up two more potatoes? I’ll finish chopping up the rest!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-Oh! Sure!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They make their way through the list of vegetables, laughing and chatting as they go along. Kamoda gets the pot ready, oil simmering. He places the chicken in and hands over the tongs. “I’ll tell you when to flip!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa isn’t truly paying attention to the time, but the next thing he knows, as he’s pouring in the vegetable stock, it’s actually starting to look like curry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice!” Kamoda beams, giving him a thumbs up before dumping in the vegetables, as well as some spices. “Just start stirring! Soon we’ll only need to do it every 10 minutes or so!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them end up scrolling through Sagisawa’s various social media feeds, losing it over silly videos (Kamoda is very fond of ones involving cats, predictably. Sagisawa quietly thinks Kamoda’s laughter is the best sound in the world). As the hour ends, Kamoda is ecstatic, jumping around as he prepares dishes (“I was boiling rice as the curry cooked!”), soon producing two bowls and placing them on the floor next to the both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe we made this!” Sagisawa gasps, picking up and looking at all the vegetables floating in the brown sauce. “This looks so good!” He soon digs in, humming happily around the utensils. “Holy shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, right?” Kamoda grins, puffing out his chest. “This is why it’s so much better to make your own food! And you can afford all of the ingredients, too! A healthier and tastier alternative to pre-packaged instant noodles, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa lets out a laugh as Kamoda elbows him, feeling a blush rise. He quietly continues his meal, full of content and warmth. Butterflies fly around in his stomach, but Sagisawa is content at the moment to let them stay there, and not letting them jeopardize this, or any future moments to come.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Umino asks, staring up at her childhood friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa grins devilishly. “Putting up mistletoe, of course! It’s a tradition that's a perfect opportunity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene snorts. “You trying to catch the lovebirds under it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep! Which is exactly why I’m putting it in the kitchen doorway.” He finishes the final touches, happily hopping off the chair. “I mean, it is a Christmas party, after all! Besides, it’s not that hard to avoid, if you don’t want to be caught.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Caught with what?” Kamoda’s voice suddenly sounds from beside him, causing Sagisawa to freeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, it’s working already.” Irene cackles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda points up to the mistletoe hanging above both their heads. “What’s this for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, what’s it for, Rei?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Irene!!” Umino hushily giggles, pushing the other girl, “Don’t mock him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-well, u-um,” Sagisawa stutters, blush rising in his cheeks, “It’s, uh, mistletoe. It’s a tradition my mom used to do when throwing Christmas parties, and basically if two people are caught under it…” He nervously starts twirling one of his locks of hair. “They have to kiss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whaaat? Really?” Kamoda grins, slight blush evident on his face, as well. “That’s a cute tradition!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-Yeah! I thought we could conspire to get Takayama and Karasuma under it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other teen lets out a laugh. “That could actually work! Can they not leave until they kiss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, not until. But, uh…” He quietly points up, trying to remind the other of the current predicament. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Oh!” He lets out a nervous, adorable chuckle. God, Sagisawa is too far gone. “Looks like we’re caught already, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa tries to reply, but his sentence turns into a squeak when Kamoda leans forward and kisses the tip of Sagisawa’s nose. He’s sure his face is completely red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh hey, is that hot cocoa?!” Kamoda blurts, sporting a blush as well, skittering away from the doorframe to grab at one of the prepared mugs and chugging. “Woah, this is good!” He says, with a chocolate milkstache. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cute!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa laughs, grabbing the chair and quickly hauling it back to its place, all while his heart does a million flips inside his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene whispers something to Umino, who lets out a loud giggle, before there’s a knock at the front door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino bounces over, grabbing and opening the door to reveal a grumpy Karasuma, scarf wrapped taught around his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fucking freezing outside.” He hisses, stepping inside and starting to undo the 500 layers he has on. “I swear I’m going to get frostbite one day!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be a baby!” Umino grins. “Besides, I made hot chocolate!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma seems to perk up at that, finishing putting his coat up. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of nowhere, Takayama appears from the hallway. “Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are!” Karasuma grumbles. “Where did you even run off to!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was holding the door for some of the tenants, they had their hands full.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So kind, Takayama!” Umino grins. “And you’re all on time for festivities, for once!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Truly a Christmas Miracle.” Irene drawls, taking a sip from her mug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino skips back into the kitchen, taking back her seat next to the lighter haired girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa waits, watches as Takayama and Karasuma chat for a bit. He taps on Kamoda’s shoulder to get his attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh! This might happen!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma’s still lecturing Takayama about something as they make their way over, until they’re stopped by Sagisawa’s loud “AHA!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The 17-year-old glares. “What’s your deal!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa grins.</span>
  <em>
    <span> It worked, it actually worked!</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Look up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma's face dawns with horror, looking up to confirm the plant hanging above the two. “What is this!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, when two people are-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what mistletoe is, Sagisawa!” Karasuma hisses, face bright red. “What I meant is: why’d you even hang this stupid thig?!” He growls at Sagisawa’s wink. “You’re ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rules are rules, Traditions are traditions!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene smirks over her mug. “It’s just a kiss, Eishi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kamoda and Rei kissed earlier!” Umino adds. Sagisawa coughs into his fist, blushing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Karasuma ignores his friends, instead glaring at Takayama from the side, cheeks still red. Takayama seems perfectly content, and the two seem to exchange a silent conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa watches with curiosity as Karasuma’s face gets impossibly redder, before huffing and turning his head, allowing Takayama to kiss him on the cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nice, Takayama!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sagisawa thinks as he gives his friend a thumbs up, which Takayama returns. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At least one of you isn’t scared to make moves!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns around to share a smirk with Kamoda, who laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we making cookies or not?” Irene calls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Sagisawa hops over to the fridge, pulling out two large containers of cookie dough. “As you’ve noticed, I’ve already made places for everyone!” He points to the six waxing papers, accompanied by three trays in the middle. He places the containers down, in the middle, on either side of the bag of flour. “I also have a few rolling pins, a bunch of cookie cutters as donated by Umino and bought by me, and a good amount of knives.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dibs!” Irene calls, already snatching up a knife from the table. She waits for Kamoda to finish scooping a heap of dough onto his paper before digging in herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa takes his seat in between Umino and Kamoda, rolling up his sleeves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you guys up to?” Karasuma asks, appearing next to the table to observe what his friends are doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re making cookies! It’ll be fun, and you can take yours home to eat.” Sagisawa winks. He looks over his shoulder to Takayama, who’s still standing in the doorway. “You joining?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Takayama says, a bit dazed but content, before looking over to see who’s speaking. “Oh, yeah.” He trots over to where the others are.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma rolls up the sleeves of his turtleneck. “I cannot remember the last time I made sugar cookies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fun!” Sagisawa sings as he starts to roll out his scoop of dough. “They’re my favorite type of cookie, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, chocolate chips are better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any cookie is good in my book!” Umino chirps, carefully placing a star cookie onto a tray. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just love sweets, Tsubame.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She giggles. “It’s true! Ooh!” She points at Takayama’s workspace. “I like your design!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” He replies, carefully transferring the bird cookie to their shared tray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You good there, Karasuma?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Karasuma hisses at Sagisawa, desperately trying to stop his cookies from ripping apart. “I’m not that good with baking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try to be gentle!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying!” He crumbles up the cookie and rolls it out flat again. “It’s not like you’re doing any better, Sagisawa!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I’m just a perfectionist!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop arguing and make cookies!” Kamoda says, cracking up as he places his fifth cookie onto the tray. “I’m sharing mine with you two, and I’m going to end up filling it up before either of you puts one on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma huffs, aggressively stabbing at the dough with an angel cookie cutter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that a cat?” Sagisawa asks, peering at his friend’s workspace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You bet!” Kamoda’s smile is absolutely radiant, flour smeared across his face. Sagisawa finds himself unable to look away as Kamoda continues to work, before he glances back up their eyes meeting. Sagisawa rips his eyes away, cheeks heating up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three rounds of trays later, all of the cookies are out of the oven and cooling down. Takayama’s helping Kamoda make the different colored frosting, while the others hang out in the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon!” Sagisawa begs, “Just one Christmas movie!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sagisawa, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who grew up Christian! No one’s watched your movies!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Muppet Christmas Carol is a classic, and I refuse to let you get away with not watching it again!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why should I care about a bunch of puppets singing!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s your Christmas joy!! So cruel, Karasuma! You’re just like Scrooge!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma rolls his eyes. “Bah, humbug.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Icing’s ready!” Kamoda calls, interrupting the conversation. Sagisawa casually slips the movie disc into the player when his friend’s not looking, turning up the volume, before disappearing back into the kitchen. Karasuma doesn’t notice until a few songs in, when he whips his head up (causing icing to hit Takayama’s arm) and blurt out “Why the fuck do I hear singing?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa delves into a giggle fit, before pushing his hair back with a flourish only a theatre kid could achieve. “I think you know why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene lets out the biggest cackle when Karasuma reaches forward and breaks the head of one of Sagisawa’s cookies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>monster!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sagisawa screams. “He had a family!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>cookie!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No fighting on Christmas.” Takayama pouts, grabbing the back of Karasuma’s shirt so the shorter boy can’t wreak anymore havoc.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the 23rd!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama’s pout is answer enough, and Karasuma huffs, reaching to grab one of his own cookies, this time, and taking a bite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Are we fighting?” Umino smirks, before picking up a blue bell-shaped cookie, still wet with icing, and smashing it in Irene’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda yelps. “Tsubame, you’ve doomed yourself-!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blue-haired teen yelps with a laugh, ducking as Irene attempts to grab her and starts to make a break for it. “Nooo! Irene, have mercy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should’ve thought of that before, Tsubame!” The other girl yells, eventually tackling her over  and smearing her face with green icing, before everyone dissolves into giggles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The party winds down a few hours later (with Sagisawa able to get Karasuma to sit down for at least one movie), and eventually everyone wraps it up and goes home, a container of cookies in hand, and joy ringing in the hallways. Sagisawa waves them goodbye, before shutting the door, feeling ecstatic. Time to clean up, he supposes. He begins to throw away the small pieces left lying around, taking down decorations, as well as sweeping up the flour that had gotten on the floor. (He has housekeepers to clean after him, but he’d rather clean up his own messes). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks quizzically up at the empty doorway in his kitchen. Weird, he could’ve sworn he hadn’t packed up the mistletoe, yet. The brunet shrugs, lugging the box of decorations and placing them back where they belong (top shelf, back closet, tucked away), before shutting it with his hip.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>On an afternoon in January, Karasuma sits lounging on the floor of his room, tapping away on his phone. And now that Sagisawa looks at him, something seems a bit different. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He points at the scrawnier teen. “Is that Takayama’s hoodie?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His friend freezes, his hands going still and the phone almost falling onto his face. He bolts up. “It’s not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It literally is!” Sagisawa cackles. Now that Karasuma’s sitting up, face flushed, it’s obvious. The red torso goes past Karasuma’s hips and the sleeves almost hide his hands completely. “I’ve seen him wear that hoodie like, all the time last year!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I just have a similar hoodie!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not even your size?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can like baggy clothes!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karasuma, you’re literally wearing skinny jeans and a tight black shirt under it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Well! ...Shut up! I was cold, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So Takayama just so happened to give you his favorite hoodie and you just so happen to be wearing it? Karasuma, that sounds pretty gay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Whatever! Don’t act like you don’t share clothes with Kamoda!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean the time he caused me to transform and ripped my sweater?! Yeah, I took his shirt. I think everyone has one of Kamoda’s stuff by now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no.” Karasuma scoffs. “Literally only you still have it. Even Takayama returned the shirt he borrowed back when Irene first showed up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Sagisawa’s turn to blush now, hiding his face in his hands. “I thought everyone kept it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s the gay one now, asshole?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since you’re the one casually wearing your crush’s hoodie, still you!.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piss off. Anyways, why don’t you just return it? I’ve never seen you wear it anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He muffles his face with a pillow he grabbed off Karasuma’s bed. “It’s my nightshirt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up! It’s been a year and he hasn’t mentioned anything so! I doubt he remembers anyways!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh Huh.” The other says, rolling his eyes, standing up and taking back his pillow. “Can’t you just ask him out by now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!” Sagisawa squeaks, face burning. “I can’t do that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pouts, sitting cross legged on the others bed. “I doubt he likes me--Ow!” He holds his forehead from where Karasuma flicked him. The shorter teen stares at him, before giving up with a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gah, you just have to figure it out, yourself,” he says, stretching his arms behind his back. “But anyways, am I helping you with physics or not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa clasps his hands in a prayer. “Please! Everytime I think I get it the teacher throws a curveball!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, physics is like that.” He rolls his eyes, grabbing his textbook and plopping it on the floor. He sits, flipping through the pages until he gets to the chapter he wants to be on. “So, electric circuits?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is useless,” Sagisawa groans, 45 minutes later, sprawled out like a star on the floor. “I might as well expect the low marks now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so dramatic.” His friend quips back. “You literally got the last problem correct on the first try.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was my last straw of luck, my last brain cell. I can’t go on any longer. Tell my family I hate them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t the line ‘Tell my family I love them?’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but I hate them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma lets out a snort. “Okay, that’s fair.” He adjusts the hoodie he’s wearing, grabbing it by its collar to briefly pull it over his mouth and nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa rolls his eyes. “How many of Takayama’s clothes have you even stolen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma immediately drops the hoodie, face  bright red. “He doesn’t have that many clothes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So if he had more, you’d steal them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up and do your homework.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa chuckles, lifting back up his workbook and trying to focus on the next problem.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>On Friday night, Takayama arrives just as usual. A flourish of movement and black wings as he lands on the ground, the fresh snow crunching underneath his talons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa holds himself closer and shivers, gripping the bag with his uncovered hand and blinking past the multiple snowflakes in his eyelashes. “It’s way too cold out, can’t we go inside? I don’t know about you, but I’m not enjoying this.” He gestures to the snow, several inches making its way up his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama shrugs, the shadow of a mask slowly removing itself as he wraps his wing mass around himself in a blanket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Sagisawa breathes, the motion drawing out a cloud. He briskly turns around and strides over to the door, bearing the chilled metal in order to hold it for his friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upon reaching the apartment, Sagisawa shucks off his coat and hangs it in the hallway, before gingerly handing over the bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here. If you want, you can go to the bathroom for more privacy? Also a mirror.” He jabs his thumb in the direction of down the hall. The younger teen only nods, before practically floating down the hallway and entering a door on his left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa sighs, then breathes on his hands in an attempt to warm them up. Coffee, hot coffee would be good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Takayama steps out, Sagisawa has already started a fresh pot and sits at his dining table, watching out the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s getting pretty bad out.” Outside, the window is heavily clouded up, with white streaks of the snowstorm constantly passing by. “Did you want to stay a bit longer? I know your wing mass can handle a lot, but it’s cold out, and this heavy snow might impact your flight. Especially if you’re already sore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama thinks, before making his way over to the table, pulling out a chair, and sits somewhat opposite to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m making coffee, did you want some?” Did a superhuman like Takayama even need coffee? He knows that Karasuma, Irene, and himself were practically addicted, knows Kamoda doesn’t like the taste, and that Umino could make practically a milkshake with only a drop of coffee, and still proclaim it “too bitter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” Is all Takayama whispers, fiddling with the end caps of his wing and staring at the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa was no Karasuma in terms of pinning down Takayama’s thoughts, but he didn’t need his Trickster ability to feel the oppressive air surrounding his friend. It made Sagisawa shuffle nervously, definitely not used to being placed in situations like this. As a popular rich kid, he never had to comfort his school friends, so the concept was foreign to him entirely by the time the Bird Club formed. Sure, they’ve each had their moments since becoming friends, but Sagisawa still struggled to get the hang of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clears his throat impulsively, sweats under the brief eye contact he makes with the other teen. When the coffee maker beeps, Sagisawa jumps out of his seat with so much vigor it startles them both, and Sagisawa winces at the awkward screech of the chair against wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The coffee’s ready.” Is all he can say, as he scoots along and disappears into the kitchen. He grabs a couple mugs, a red one with black stripes, and his favorite white mug with fake paint splashes on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want anything in it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, plain is fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa didn’t really peg Takayama as the black coffee type, but he digresses. He places the mug on the table and heads back over to his counter, tearing open a few creamers and dunking them into his own mug, as well as grabbing some whipped cream and cinnamon nearby for the finishing touches later. He grabs a spoon and stirs in the cream, before taking a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Sagisawa glances over his shoulder, notes the way Takayama holds onto the mug of coffee and stares into it. He doesn’t make any inclination to speak, but Sagisawa understands anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I get it.” He taps his spoon on the top to shake any excess drops, then quickly sprays a swirl of whipped cream and a few shakes of cinnamon. The routine action puts him at ease, as his mind helplessly tries to think of where to go from here. “It’s hard to tell, isn’t it?” He says, after he makes his way back to his spot on the oak table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama glances up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, sadness is so easy to place: it aches and weighs on you like you’re wearing a ton of clothes. Anger, it makes your blood boil, and your entire self feels on fire. But sometimes…” His eyesight wanders to look outside the window, the snow clouds blocking the usually starry night sky. “Sometimes you just feel numb. You can’t tell if you’re okay because you don’t know anything, you’re just floating, and you want to feel something, but it just doesn’t come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Takayama breathes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apathy, it’s a fickle beast.” Sagisawa blows on his coffee and takes a sip, “You welcome it so you don’t have to deal with the pain of trauma, but it stays too long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad,” Takayama smiles, the expression only lightly tugging on his lips upward in a sad, relieved way, “That someone else gets it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa feels himself mimicking him. “Me too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes another sip, before he places the mug down. “You know what I always do when I don’t feel well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama tilts his head to the side, waiting for the answer, and watches the taller one rise from his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I go to the pantry and eat a shit ton of junk food.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama stares for a bit, and the lack of response starts to make Sagisawa worried he said the wrong thing, when the wild-haired boy’s eyes crinkle, shoulders rise, and he lets out small puffs of breath, and it takes Sagisawa a moment to realize he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s never seen him laugh before, but there he was, sitting at Sagisawa’s dining table and laughing so softly that one couldn’t hear unless they really listened. How many times had the bird club missed Takayama’s smile, his laughter?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I just didn’t expect that to ring so true.” Takayama finishes, breathing out the sentence as he works to collect himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I take it that’s a yes on the pantry raid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama gets up from his seat as well--answer enough--and Sagisawa tries to stop himself from skipping in joy as he leads him down through the kitchen and to the pantry door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being a rich kid with a growing, ferocious appetite, it was only necessary that he’d have a huge pantry full of junk food. Sagisawa can feel Takayama’s stare as he took in all of the different packages, but Sagisawa is too focused on deciding what he wants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can take what you like.” The brunette hums, as he grabs a pack of cheese puffs. He notices Takayama looking at a bag of pretzels. “Really, go on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama slowly grabs the pretzel bag, smiling a bit to himself. Sagisawa tosses him a candy bar. “You like chocolate, right? I’m pretty sure we made you that for your birthday last year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, smiling as he twirls the bar in between his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa closes the door with the back of his foot, and they make their way back to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This doesn’t really go with coffee.” Sagisawa rarely heard Takayama use his playful tone, so he found himself lightly chuckling as he picks the mug up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who cares? Anyways, let’s go to my room.” He sees Takayama’s look. “No one minds if I eat in my room. Literally, no one’s even here right now.” He gestures around the clearly empty apartment as he makes his way down the hall and opens up the door to his room with his foot. He kinda regrets it, as his room is already messy again, since the last time everyone was over. Even his bed, which he usually makes a point to clean, was thrown around. Sagisawa tries to pick up the loose paper wads and throws them in the trash as he wades his way to his bed, then flops onto the ground near it and splays out his loot. Takayama takes a hesitant seat across from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa wastes no time in opening up his bag of chips and tossing a few into his mouth. Takayama quietly opens up his bag of pretzels, takes one out and rolls it around before taking a bite. They sit in awkward silence for a bit, focused on eating their salty foods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t force you to talk.” Sagisawa pipes, before taking another bite of a chip. “But I hope you know you can rely on us. You don’t need to wait for a blackout to kick your ass to vent your problems.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama shrugs, barely even lifting up his shoulders as he takes another careful bite.  “Did you ever have a therapist?” He murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm? Oh, yeah, I briefly did when I was a kid.” Sagisawa stares at the bag’s logo. “After my brother’s death, I was pretty much forced into it.” He crinkles his nose, the memories hitting his senses; the feeling of large, soft couches and a reedy voiced woman with a hideous bob. “It didn’t really go well, but I did learn some meditation tricks, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama picks up the coffee mug he had brought with him, takes a sip before talking again. “My Aunt signed me up for one when I was younger, but I never spoke during them. Eventually, I started ditching them, excusing myself to the bathroom, climbing out the window, and not going back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa suppresses a snort and nods. He remembers Karasuma once or twice vaguely mentioning Takayama was an orphan, but never really went deeper than that. Really, now that Sagisawa thought of it, he barely knew anything about Takayama at all. When it came to birthday gifts and the like, everyone on the team ended up looking to Karasuma for guidance. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He likes chocolate,” Karasuma would tell them, waving a hand to get them to back up. “He likes plants too, things he can plant in a garden, but enjoys having a succulent or two in his room for company. Dislikes a lot of materialistic things, and gets awkward if you gift him anything. Also, poetry books. But he won’t admit it.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The rustling of the bag of pretzels pulls Sagisawa back to the present. He breathes, in and out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you thinking of going back?” Sagisawa pushes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was wondering if it helped you, or if you gained any tips.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagiswa lets out a blow of air. “My experience wasn’t the best. I think it has to do with actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanting</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get better, and I think I was so far up my ass in self-deprecation and dissociation that I barely tried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama exhales through his nose sharply in a way that could be interpreted as a chuckle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I did learn a few things on my own.” Sagisawa taps his hand absentmindedly. “It took a lot of time, and I had to unlearn some of the...</span>
  <em>
    <span>unhealthy</span>
  </em>
  <span> coping habits I picked up...But anyways, in regards to dissociation, drinking something hot helped ground me. Or working to slowly move my fingers to feel alive again. Or doing art.” Sagisawa waves around the room, which held many paintings strewn up on the wall, both from him and artists he’d come to admire. “Do you do anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleep.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Sagisawa can’t stop the snort that rips out of his chest. “Ha! Me too, me too. But really, is that it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama merely shrugs. “Flying helps. Ei-Karasuma always offers to help, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa merely raises an eyebrow at the slip up, but decides to let it slide. “You don’t know how to accept it.” He states, more than asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama’s silence is more than enough. Their coffee is cooled down by now, so Sagisawa takes another shaky sip without blowing. “Well, I can’t claim to know everything, and I definitely don’t have all the solutions, either. But I do think it’s important to push ourselves to improve. Pushing down trauma, our feelings...it doesn’t help. You force yourself to stay stagnant. You have to allow yourself to feel something if you want to truly live. Right now, it’s just surviving. One day you won’t have to survive from day to day anymore.. the day won’t come for a while, but it’s worth taking the steps now.” He pops another chip into his mouth. “I’m sure you’ve figured this out for yourself by now, but Karasuma really is good at helping, and he’ll listen and ramble back advice if you let him. And me and the others are here for you too, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama blinks, taking in everything said. “I’m no good at comforting people...but you’re all my friends, and if I can help I want to as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa grins. “That’s good to hear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other boy takes another hesitant sip of his drink, seeming to think about something. Sagisawa lets him think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karasuma helped you out a lot before we left Tokyo, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa blinks, a small blush erupting. “Y-Yeah. My blackout always hit the hardest, so he was there for me during my breakdowns.” An embarrassing amount, really. It became a habit that after each time his blackout reared its head, Karasuma would look immediately at him, a gentle presence reminding him it’d be okay to take a break. And if that break meant flying around with him for an hour, or simply just patting his back as Sagisawa ugly cried, Karasuma was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama looks at him. “Did you like him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa lets out a bitter laugh. He always forgets Takayama can read thoughts. “Yeah, I did. I got over it by the time we were sixteen, but Karasuma was there for me in a way I never had before. He made me feel safe, allowing me to be vulnerable, without pitying me.” He sighs into his drink. “But I knew it wasn’t received, I mean, I have my Trickster ability, after all. Besides, all those times I was looking at him, he was looking at-” He breaks his sentence off before he can finish it. It wouldn’t be fair to tell Takayama outright about Karasuma’s feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite that, Takayama has a knowing look on his face. Shadows flicker over his face for a moment, before returning. “I guess we were all chasing after someone, back then.” He smiles. “Though my reasons for chasing after Eva weren't romantic like you or Karasuma. She is…” He thinks. “Kinda like the last rembenance of a parental figure I had.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And was it worth it? When you found her again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama thinks, long and hard. “It was worth it in the fact I needed her to change the world. She offered insight and advice that I needed, too. But…” He fidgets with his hands. “I realized I had more family here, with my friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa's heart swells, at the other’s proclamation. “You know, you’re usually so aloof and quiet, but you really do care about us, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama raises an eyebrow. “There was a doubt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you did ditch us for two months…” The brunet teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see how that is relevant.” Takayama teases back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They look at each other before both letting out a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shorter teen gets to his feet. “I should get going. Thank you, by the way. For this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s really no problem. Here, I’ll walk you out.” Sagisawa offers, rocking up to stand and leading the way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After getting on the roof, Takayama nods before immediately jetting in the air and swooping to the right, disappearing into the white streaks of snow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa lets out a puff of air, kneeling as he takes ragged breaths in.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So what was your idea?” Kamoda asks, maybe more yells, as they both walk down the busy streets of Tokyo on a frigid February day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I bought tickets to an art museum! I was thinking that we’d come up with some excuse about how I was gifted them, and don’t want to go, and then </span>
  <em>
    <span>subtly</span>
  </em>
  <span>  suggest he take Takayama! Then they’ll basically go on a date!” Sagisawa grins, only trying to hide the mischievous grin a little bit. “Thanks for meeting up with me, by the way. Now we just have to go deliver them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda huffs, a cloud of air puffing out due to the cold air. “Well, I know he’s not home right now, he tries to stay out on Saturdays.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Look!” Sagisawa points across the street as Karasuma emerges from a coffee shop, bundled up in earmuffs, a scarf, and a black coat. “Talk about perfect timing. Karasuma!” He waves, crossing the street with Kamoda in tow. The short teen jumps, quickly shuts the door of the cafe and blocks it with his torso, staring at them, frantic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you two doing here?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exploring! What’s up with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh. Getting coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda points to his empty hands. “Did you not buy anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma does a quick glance inside the blackened door. “I finished it inside.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Kamoda purses his lips before reaching into his pocket. “Anyways! I have a present for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mikisada, you know my birthday’s not for another 2 months?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh.” Kamoda takes the tickets from Sagisawa and hands them over. “Here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma blinks a few times, staring at the slips of paper. “What are these?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tickets to the art museum today! Didn’t you want to go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma stalls for a second before his cheeks heat up. “You didn’t spend a lot of money on this, did you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa tilts his head to the side with a smile and raises his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it! Consider it a gift for how hard you’ve been working lately. You seem stressed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma stares at the two tickets placed in his gloved hands. “I can’t take these.” He gently laughs, the motion drawing soft puffs in the February air, before gently shoving them into Sagisawa’s hands. “Thanks for the offering, but I just got back from that exhibit an hour ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whaaat? Really?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, I promise. But, you shouldn’t waste ‘em. You like the artist, right? You two should go.” Karasuma smiles, before reaching into his pocket, surprise spreading across his face. “Shit! I forgot my phone inside.” He clumsily grasps for the door handle without breaking eye contact. “Guess I have to go back in. You two should hurry up, it closes in a few hours...See you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-See you!” Kamoda calls back, but Karasuma has already entered the cafe again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two stand there, blinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was weird, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely a little out of character.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa stares at the tickets. “Damn, and I really thought this idea would work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda shrugs. “Oh well, did you want to go with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R-really?” Sagisawa coughs, trying to hide the dopey smile breaking across his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, why not! You heard what Eishi said, we shouldn’t waste them!” He adjusts the green, knitted hat on his head. “Plus, I haven’t been to a museum since elementary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” Sagisawa gapes. “Then we absolutely have to go!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they arrived at the museum and secured their way into the entrance, they had a good solid 2 hours to kill before the museum closed for the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah!” Kamoda breathes, grinning wildly as he looks all around him at the many windows and tall ceilings. “It’s so stunning in here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa laughs, “We haven’t even seen any of the art exhibits yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa smiles, shakes his head as he takes off his gloves and tucks them into his pea coat. “C’mon, let’s go have a look around.” He lets Kamoda trail behind him as they weave their way through the crowd, entering the nearest corridor full of modern sculptures. Sagisawa peers at one, its massive block of black swirling around, with no immediate symbolism jumping out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It looks like a dog.” Kamoda comments, squinting and leaning closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? I don’t see it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not looking from my angle! Here,” Kamoda grabs Sagisawa by the shoulders, shifts him over to his position and makes him lean awkwardly to the left. “How about now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa tilts his head, arching an eyebrow as he desperately looks. “”I guess from here the bump looks like a snout.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And those two holes! Totally its eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay. I think I’m seeing it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha!” Kamoda boasts, leaning back and dropping his hands from Sagisawa’s shoulders to instead place them at his own hips. “Maybe I’m not bad at this art stuff after all!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve always been good at art, Kamoda.” Sagisawa points out, having seen his many scribbles on his math homework.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda beams at him, the fluorescent lights overhead framing around him in soft white, making his expression warmer than a blanket on a cold winter night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa has to look away, bites his lip  from the sudden butterflies turning over in his stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda gives him no time to recover, instead grabs Sagisawa by the elbow and pulls him over to the next statue, chatting about how he’ll totally be able to uncover the next one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour and a half later, the two boys spill out of the museum’s entrance, giggling to themselves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe that old lady thought you were 27!” Sagisawa snickers, buttoning up his jacket as they walk down the sidewalk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not fair at all! I don’t even have facial hair or anything!” The seventeen-year old pouts, rubbing the top of his head, where his fuzzy crew cut lays. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s totally because of your height.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not my fault I’m 6’4”!” Kamoda whines, “Besides, I totally blame my resting face. Eishi thinks it looks mobster-esque.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you have a wonderful face.” Sagisawa relents, making sure not to  blush as he spills the words out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda’s face softens immediately. “Really?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Really! Who could hate that giga-watt smile?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda laughs at that, playfully elbows Sagisawa before looking down at him. “Thanks, I really appreciate hearing that. I think you have a wonderful face too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa doesn’t do a good job hiding his blush this time, only covers his mouth and laughs.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Heyyy!” Kamoda greets, lifting his bag of ingredients into the air in greeting. “Ready to start making Eichan’s cake?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa beckons his friend inside his apartment. “Of course!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think he’ll like it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a chocolate coffee cake, I honestly don’t see how this could go wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda peers at the ingredients already placed on the counter. “Oh! Good, you picked up the ingredients I didn’t have.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was no biggie! I’m the one who requested you make his cake, so,” He waves his hands around. “Anyways, let’s get baking!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda grins, grabbing the semi-sweet chocolate and passing it over to his friend. “I’m going to start melting this in a saucepan, can you start getting the ingredients and sifting the dry?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa hums in acknowledgment, bending down to grab a small bowl from a drawer, before starting to sift the flour, cocoa, baking soda, and salt. By the time Kamoda’s finished melting the chocolate, setting it aside to cool, Sagisawa is already beginning to whisk the wet ingredients in another bowl, the smell of coffee already starting to mingle with chocolate. They make small talk, giggling and shoving each other as they work, gradually stirring in the cooled chocolate and dry ingredients to the mixture. The oven beeps from behind them, letting them know it’s preheated, and Kamoda carefully pours the finished mixture into two separate pans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay!” Sagisawa grins, wiping off his hands after putting them in the oven. “We’ve got about 35 minutes until we need to check on them!” He puts his hands on his hips. “What do you want to do until then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno,” Kamoda shrugs. “Just talking is fine with me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can hang out in my room, then.” Sagisawa laughs, pushing the taller teen down the hallway to his room. “So, figured out what you’re getting for your best friend’s birthday, yet?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!” Kamoda grins, “It took me literally 3 months to figure it out, but I did! I’m still getting everything ready, I just hope I’ll finish in time by the party tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure he’ll love it, no matter what it is.” Sagisawa replies, fixing some things on his desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you think the others are getting him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa taps his chin. “Umino’s making him something, but she absolutely refuses to tell me, something about how it’d spoil my present too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Haha, really?! I mean, your birthday </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>next week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right?! Guess I’ll just have to wait and see. Irene told me she’s getting him some clothing.” He taps his chin. “I have no clue about Takayama, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda lets out a laugh. “No one knows about Takayama, to be fair!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure he’ll think of something, if not just dragging him around around the city for a midnight flight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A romantic date, then!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not like they don’t go on those all the time!” Sagiawa laughs, sitting down on his bed “It’s crazy to me they’re still not together! I mean, they literally hang out </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>the time, how are they seriously not dating?! You’d think one of them would have confessed by now...I mean, probably not Karasuma, but surely Takayama would have said something?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Haha, I don’t know...confessing isn’t that easy I guess. And I mean, Eichan’s probably hasn’t said anything because he wouldn’t want to ruin it, you know? We’ve all been through so much, and why would he want to jeopardize their friendship? I mean, I still haven’t had the spine to tell you-” He slaps a hand over his mouth, abruptly standing up. “Well!” He squeaks,” You think the cake is done baking? Maybe I should check-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda is already halfway through the door when his words finally process in Sagisawa’s mind. “Wait...what did you want to tell me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda freezes, his leg comically half raised up. He doesn’t look at Sagisawa, which only leaves the brunet more confused. “Uh, um, well,” He stammers, before peaking over his shoulder. Holy shit, he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>blushing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I didn’t want to tell you like this-I mean you probably don’t even like me back- and that’s ok!!” His hands are moving animatedly, flailing around, ‘I know I’m probably not your type anyways, I mean, I get into fights a lot, and I’m super tall and-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa cuts him off. “You like me?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Am I dreaming?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda falters, nervously showing that beautiful, dazzling smile that makes Sagisawa feel dizzy. He replies in the same tone, barely a whisper. “I-I do, yeah. I really like you, Rei.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” Something in Sagisawa’s brain snaps in half, and his stomach bursts in energy. He can’t help the small bubble of laughter that escapes him. “You like me back?” He’s giggling now, trying to hide it behind his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You...like </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>back?” Kamoda blinks, the nervousness dissolving from his expression to that of pure glee. “You’re not pulling my leg?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God, no! I’ve been losing my mind over this crush for- for </span>
  <em>
    <span>months</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” He lets out a pure squeeze of laughter, and Kamoda soon joins in, a happy, enthusiastic bout, as he moves closer to the other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda’s grinning, smiling ear to ear, and Sagisawa knows he’s matching it. “Wow. You actually like me back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that why you kissed me during Truth or Dare?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, it is.” Sagisawa's smile softens as he stares up at the teen he’s smitten over. “I was too chicken to kiss you on the lips.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I’d known that, I would’ve properly kissed you at the Christmas party!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa laughs softly. “I should’ve said something sooner, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should have!” Kamoda grins, his eyes twinkling. “Wow,” He breathes again. “You wanted to kiss me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa’s heart squeezes, and he stands up, fully, until his nose properly bumps up against Kamoda’s. “I still do! You’ve got a really kissable face.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda tries to respond (“Y-You do too-”), but Sagisawa doesn’t give him the chance as he tilts his head the slight degree necessary to connect their lips, fisting his hands in the collar of Kamoda’s shirt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even though the kiss only lasts a second, Sagisawa feels as if his heart’s going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>explode</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “We should probably check on the cake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda doesn’t open his eyes for a moment. He flutters them open, a giant smile on his lips. “I-I’m sure the cake can wait for another kiss or two.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa laughs, freely, giddily, before releasing Kamoda’s shirt and side-stepping to the right, grabbing his wrist and tugging him out of his room. “I’d rather not burn Karasuma’s cake, thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They spend the day finishing the cake, (letting it cool, whipping the buttercream, stirring the ganache) and they finish around 5 p.m. Sagisawa takes a step back, admiring their creation. “Karasuma is going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda picks it up carefully, and places it in the fridge. “I’ll come by early tomorrow to pick it up, then we can fly over to his house together, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa grins. “Sounds like a plan!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda meets his grin back. “Do you want to order pizza and play video games?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know me so well.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“We need more time!” Sagisawa fumbles with the streamers in his hand. “Takayama, go distract Karasuma before he comes home from work!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The messy-haired teen merely shrugs, and disappears behind the front door while Irene tussles with the chairs. “This is such a PAIN!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino throws a plastic cloth across the Karasuma family’s dining table. “It’s worth it, though! He’s going to be so surprised we went so big this year!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fifteen minutes later, with a mad finish of decorations, Sagisawa finally tweets to Takayama that it’s okay to let Karasuma in. A minute passes before the door handle turns and swings open, revealing an extremely flustered (and slightly peeved) Karasuma with a few leaves (and even a branch) stuck in his hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma doesn’t even notice them at first, shucking off his tennis shoes and grumbling before-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma nearly trips and face plants on his floor, looking up in shock to see his friends beaming at him. He’s baffled for a moment before he squeaks out a confused: “What?!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy Birthday, you nerd!” Kamoda grins, ear to ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a surprise party!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But my birthday’s tomorrow?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s why it’s a surprise!” Umino whoops. “We’re all busy tomorrow with school and work, so we’re celebrating early!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama pokes his head through the door, a leaf also on top of his head. Karasuma whirls around at him. “Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> what that was all about?! Just trying to distract me?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it worked.” Takayama flatly states, grabbing the branch on top of the other’s head. “You were distracted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Bellwether responds with a hard shove, and the two tussle for a bit before Sagisawa clears his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You two are adorable, but can we </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> start the party?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both freeze, Takayama having Karasuma in a headlock, before he lets go. Karasuma sticks his tongue out at the other, a blush on his face, before stepping fully into the living area. “You guys did all of this?” He looks around to all the streamers and balloons. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep, we made you a cake, too!” Kamoda performs small jazz hands over his creation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma’s smile is soft. “You didn’t have to go all out-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nonsense!” Sagisawa throws an arm over his shoulder. “We have to appreciate our Bellwether, after all! It’s only once a year!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino tosses a controller at her friend. “Don’t you wanna play Mario Kart?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The 18-year-old looks at the controller, before letting out a laugh. “Sure, why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the spirit!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve already hooked up my Switch to your TV,” Sagisawa adds with a wink. “There’s only four players at a time, though. So we’re going to have to switch around.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Irene settles in a crouch position on the couch. “No matter, I’m still going to kick everyone’s ass!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like hell you will!” Karasuma replies, taking a seat on the opposite side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino picks up her controller to select Princess Peach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa offers the last controller in hand to Takayama. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t really know this game.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never hurts to participate!” He nods over to Karasuma. “Plus, you can both sit next to Karasuma and destroy him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama thinks about it, an eyebrow raised, before tentatively taking the controller and walking over, sitting on the arm rest directly next to Karasuma.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t you sit on the couch like a normal person?” He huffs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama props an arm comfortably on Karasuma’s shoulder, holding the controller in the other. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all play a few rounds, with varying results. Takayama never won, but made it a priority to try and knock out Karasuma, causing Karasuma to shove Takayama off the couch at some point when the other made him go from 1st to 4th place with a spin out (“You’re such an ass!” he screamed, as Takayama cackles from the floor). Irene and Umino have a vicious battle every time they play together, and always win first whenever the other girl is substituted out in the rotation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kamoda!!” Sagisawa screams, rapidly trying to get Rosalina back up to second. “No fair! I was so close to passing Karasuma!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I want to win too!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Terrible!” Sagisawa whines, as he misses a turn and is even more behind everyone. “My own boyfriend, betraying me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so dramatic.” Kamoda laughs, before Dry Bones sends Luigi careening. “NOOO! TAKAYAMA, WHY?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go Mikisada go!” Umino cheers from the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma zooms across the finish line not even a minute later, jumping up and fist pumping the air for finally securing a win. “Take that!” He grins at Takayama.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good game.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa places his controller on the table. “Presents time?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you guys I didn’t want anything-!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like we’d listen!” Irene barks, tossing her packaged gift into Karasuma’s arms. “Stop being modest and just open them!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma huffs, sitting back down and starting to neatly undo the lightning-patterned wrapping paper. He lifts a black sweater up from it. “Hey, isn’t this-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your favorite sweater got ripped a few months ago, right? So I got you a new one. It’s not exactly it, but I think it’s just as soft.” She grins cattily, despite the warmth in her voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma feels the fabric around with his fingers. “I think it’s even softer.” His delight is infectious. “Thanks, bird girl.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m up next!” Sagisawa chimes, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a card. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma raises an eyebrow, taking it and reading it over. “You’re a sap.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guilty. Look at my gift, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma lifts up the gift card. “A gift card to that coffee shop?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you thrive on caffeine, so I got you a 10,500 yen gift card-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“THAT MUCH!?” Karasuma practically flails the card in his hand. “This is too much power. I’m going to go mad with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa lifts his hand. “I guess I’ll take it b-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No way! Too late!” Karasuma shields the card with his body. “You’ll deal with the consequences of me being on a caffeine rush!” They both let out a laugh. “Okay, seriously though, my wallet thanks you.” He places the card on the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooh! Ooh! Open mine next!” Umino giddily reaches behind the couch and hands him a big box with a fancy bow on top. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the-!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just open it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay!” He quickly undoes the ribboning and lifts up the lid, peering inside. He takes out a giant plush toy, a spherical black orb with tiny gray feet and a beak, as well as two button eyes. “This thing’s as big as my head!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I spent forever making him, so you better appreciate it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He places the crow plush onto his lap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s so cute, Tsubame!” Sagisawa coos.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m making one for everyone, so expect your plushie on the appropriate day!” She puffs, triumphantly placing her hands on her hips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda hands over his gift. “My turn!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma looks at him, questioning . “You’re not just giving me food this year?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I felt like switching it up!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pfft, okay.” He starts to undo the wrapping, before lifting the gift up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a photo album!” Kamoda exclaims, leaning over his boyfriend to point at the cover, inscribed with the words and a few scribbles of wings. “See, look!” He starts to open it, pointing at all the pictures. “It was super hard to find pictures of us as kids, did you know that?” Karasuma flips a few more pages, eyes widened with shock. “And here’s some from when the Bird Club just started! Most of these I got from Tsubame and Marilyn.” He grins. “There’s a lot more from throughout the years! You don’t like having your photo taken, but I think it’s different when you’re hanging out with us in the picture.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...don’t know what to say.” It almost looks like Karasuma’s about to cry. He peers forward at the photo album, hands tracing over the numerous photos of all of them together, smiling. “This is...really nice, really. Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t get mushy on me, now!” Kamoda roughly ruffles the shorter boy’s hair. “Anyways,Takayama, what about your gift?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy in question blinks, before rubbing the back of his neck. “I already gave him his present.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whaaat?! Takayama, you were supposed to wait until the party!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, who wants cake!” Karasuma interrupts, jumping to his feet. Sagsisawa raises an eyebrow at how red the Bellwether’s cheeks are.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Me!” Umino waves her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me too!” Hopping over the back of the couch to get to the kitchen, Kamoda grabs a lighter and starts poking the candles in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma takes a seat at the table. “Seriously, you decorated my table too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s the least we can do, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda lifts up the cake. “Okay, are we ready!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma playfully rolls his eyes as his friends start to sing, and even sticks his tongue out at Umino who’s taking a video recording. The cake is placed in front of him, and he blows all the candles out at once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit, this cake is good.” Karasuma says, first thing after taking a bite.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda absolutely beams from the side. “Couldn’t have done it without Sagisawa!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmf.” Karasuma replies, continuing to stuff his face with cake. He finishes it off a minute later. “Definitely your best cake yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why thank you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama smiles from beside his friend, before reaching up to wipe off some frosting that got on Karasuma’s nose. He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand. “You could’ve just told me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes once more, standing up. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Takayama watches him go, smiling around the fork in his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re just never going to get their heads out of their asses, huh?” Sagisawa laughs, watching them from the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe they’ll get together in college!” Kamoda grins.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hah, maybe. Only if they were like roommates or something.” He stabs at his piece of cake.   “I’m still a bit miffed, though,” Sagisawa pouts, leaning against Kamoda’s shoulder. “We spent months trying to get them together, and in the end we didn’t even succeed! Even if it did lead to us dating.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino giggles from the couch while Irene rolls her eyes. “You two still haven’t figured it out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa and Kamoda both give her a confused look. “What are you talking about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino, still laughing, tries to answer. “Hey, Takayama,” she says, getting the attention of the teen who was dozing off a few feet away. “How long have you been dating Karasuma?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama’s neutral face automatically breaks into a soft grin. “One year this tuesday.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa gapes. “Wait...What?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s the sound of a door opening from the hallway, and Karasuma re-enters into the living room, checking his phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“KARASUMAAAA!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The 18-year-old jumps. “WHAT?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“EICHAAAAN” Kamoda basically tackles his best friend over, shaking his shoulders so much Karasuma starts to look dizzy. “WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU’RE DATING TAKAYAMA?!</span>
  <em>
    <span> AND FOR SO LONG!!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma‘s face immediately turns a shade of bright red. He tries to glare at Umino while he’s still being shaken, pointing at her. “What the fuck, you said you wouldn’t tell them!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino smiles, cheery and mischievous as she takes a bite of her cake. “Bribes only last so long, Karasuma! Besides, Takayama was the one to confirm it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma shoves Kamoda off of him to whirl around at his boyfriend. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>TAKAYAMA</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My bad.” Takayama replies, hand raised in a fraction of an apology.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa groans into his hands from where he’s crumpled onto the floor. “All our hard work-for </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing!</span>
  </em>
  <span> They were dating the whole time! How did I not notice?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hard work?” Karasuma asks. Sagisawa can see the gears turning before he devolves into a fit of cackling laughter.  “Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> what you guys were up to?! Trying to set us up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Trying’ is the key word!” Sagisawa whines, throwing his hands up before turning to glare at Umino and Irene, those </span>
  <em>
    <span>traitors</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “You two were part of this operation too! But you both knew they were already together?! Why didn’t you say anything!!!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Umino winks. “I caught them kissing a month or so ago, but Karasuma bribed me to keep quiet by buying me pancakes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not for long it seems.” Karasuma grumbles from the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Irene hangs off the back of the couch. “I asked Sou after practice the day we started this ‘operation,’ and he admitted it, like, immediately. It’s not like he tries to keep his affection a secret.” She points over to where Takayama is attempting to lean against Karasuma.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Besides, there was no reason to hide it anyways, Kara!” Umino beams. “You were worried about the club or whatever, but now Kamoda and Sagisawa are dating!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma sighs, but there’s no malice behind it. “Yeah, okay. Took them long enough. I don’t know how many more dates I could send them on before they got the hint they both liked each other.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait-seriously? Is that why you kept declining our invitations!? Like when I dyed my hair or we got you museum tickets?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma lets out a laugh. “At times. Though for the museum one, you just happened to show up while I was on a date with Takayama.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He slammed the door in my face.” Takayama grumbles, chin resting on Karasuma’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa ponders everything for a moment. “So you and I were both setting each other up with someone?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh, mine was more on the down side. Some meddling at most. Besides, I’ve been dating Takayama before you even started that...whatever it was, so does yours even count?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sagisawa makes an overexaggerated gasp. “So mean!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kamoda lets out a snort, playfully nudging Sagisawa in the side. “Looks like we were the targets of Operation Lovebirds after all!”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading!!!!!! If you liked it, please feel free to leave comments ! (i may not always reply, but I promise they make my day :D ) you can also talk to me about it (or birdmen in general) on my tumblr @soutakayama or through my discord, if you know it!</p>
<p>also, I'm curious, how obvious was that plot twist for takaeishi to you guys? haha I tried to write it subtly, but enough to where if you reread, there's a lot of hidden comedy with takaeishi shenanigans</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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